Under Penalty of Law
by polydimensional
Summary: What happens when a bored America rips the tag off a mattress? The world ends, of course!


**A/N: **I do not own any of the Old Spice commercials or products. There are also some references to Youtube videos, which I do not own either.

* * *

"Arthur, how much longer is this gonna take?" whined America. He was sitting in an uncomfortable armchair in the furniture department of IKEA, bored out of his mind. England scrutinized a couch cushion, compressed it between his fists to determine its softness, then put it back.

"Patience, Alfred," was his tart response. "I still need a new coffee table, which you broke, and a new tea set, which you also broke."

America pouted but was silent. England should have learned by now that it was never a good idea to leave ancient, frangible tea sets lying around during Super Bowl season, when America was convinced that he, too, could play professional football and was eager to demonstrate. Then again, England hadn't exactly been aware of America self-invitation, so he had no time to salvage his precious, 450-year old tea set, given to him by Queen Elizabeth I herself. _Still, _America insisted, folding his arms defensively against his own thoughts, _He should've known better than to leave stuff like that lying around when I know how to sneak into his house._

The coffee table had been an unexpected accident, however. When America had leaped up to catch the football he had manipulated one of England's servants into throwing, he saw the tea set under him as he was falling and knew two things at once: 1) _Arthur's gonna be pissed _and 2)_ this is gonna hurt_. He was correct on both assumptions; after England drove America to the hospital to remove the porcelain shards embedded in his stomach, he then dragged him to the nearest furniture store to replace his broken tea set and coffee table. Apparently, the force of America's fall had not only shattered the priceless tea set but also caused the wooden coffee table to collapse underneath him. Maybe he should cut back on the burgers...? Nah.

So that's how he ended up here, dull-eyed and slack-jawed in his overwhelming boredom, as England scurried to and fro, trying to find the most expensive tea set and coffee table in the store (when he said he was going to make America pay, he had meant it quite literally). America shook his head slightly to wake himself up, glanced over to make sure England's attention was lying elsewhere, and decided to just bail, getting up stiffly from the armchair and walking casually away. England could call him when he was finished.

He walked across the hardwood floor, yawning and glancing around in disinterest. _So tired..._he thought, stifling another yawn. _Maybe I can sneak a quick nap in the mattress department? _Without further ado, he headed in that direction, fully intent on sleeping through England's little shopping spree. He found a comfortable-looking king sized mattress for $799.99, and sat down on it, bouncing lightly. It was softer than he'd previously imagined, and he sunk down into it, sighing happily. He let his arm hang over the side, and felt a smooth, papery object. He leaned over to investigate the source and found himself clutching the mattress tag, which bore the warning:

UNDER PENALTY OF LAW THIS TAG NOT TO BE REMOVED EXCEPT BY THE CONSUMER.

America read the warning, shrugged nonchalantly, and promptly tore off the tag with a resounding _riiiiiiip_. Suddenly, the ground began to shiver. The lights began to flicker and buzz, and a strange, chilling hum rose in pitch around him and the other shoppers. Babies began to wail and thrash in their strollers, and several women screamed.

"Everyone get out of the store!" someone cried, and no one needed a second invitation. They stampeded towards the automatic doors like a herd of startled gazelles, America hurrying after them. His phone beeped and he answered it unthinkingly.

"Hello?"

"Alfred!" came England's furious voice. "What the bloody hell have you done now?"

"Me? What makes you think I did anything?" America yelled back, incredulous.

"Where are you now?"

"I'm coming back from the mattress department and heading for the exit!"

There was a long pause on the other line. America could make out the sounds of rattling dishes and chairs sliding noisily across the floor.

"Hello? Arthur!"

"Did you say you were in the...mattress department?"

"Yeah, so? Listen, England, we need to get out of here! I'm almost through the doors; I'll meet you in the parking lot - "

"Did you by any chance touch a mattress tag?"

America stared at his phone as he squeezed through the screaming crowd of shoppers, grabbing the edge of one of the automatic sliding doors to haul himself out. He clutched the mattress tag still in his hand more tightly.

"Oh, come on, Arthur; you're joking, right? Nothing happens when you rip the tag off a mattress!"

"IDIOT!" England screamed on the other line. "Of course it does! Everyone knows what happens when you rip the tag off a mattress!"

"Oh, really?" America bit back, more annoyed than amused. "And what happens, exactly?"

England's tone turned suddenly grave and serious. "The world ends."

America was about to laugh at him, but suddenly the connection was cut off.

"Hello? England? Totally not funny, dude!"

Nothing but an eerie, continuous dial tone. He shoved his phone in his back pocket and muttered, "Whatever," making his way towards England's car as people shrieked and ran in circles around him. "If Arthur wants to pretend he's John Cusack and go all 2012 on me, then fine. I'm going back home."

As he was fishing in his pocket for the keys he had swiped from England, however, a white lump suddenly crashed into his windshield.

_Kapooya!_

He looked up, startled, just in time to see another white lump free-fall into someone else's windshield, cracking the glass.

_Kapooya!_

These were the first gentle notes of the symphony, however, and they soon led into a violent crescendo, falling everywhere - on people's cars, smashing onto the parking lot pavement, hitting people in the head.

"Hail!"

At this verbal declaration, big chunks of hail the size of quarters began to storm down, hitting America in the face.

_KAPOOYA! KAPOOYA!_

Still screaming, people began running back into Ikea, America following closely behind. Some remained huddled inside behind the automatic doors, while others were running back and forth inside, convinced that staying in motion meant staying alive. America glanced worriedly down the corridor leading to the furniture department. He tried dialing England's number on his phone, but there was no answer.

Suddenly, the light above him flickered and exploded, raining red sparks onto a rack of shirts. The clothes caught fire and began to burn, setting off the fire alarms, but no water came down in response; the sprinkler system was not working.

"Oh lord Jesus, it's a fire!" America shouted.

"Yes, it is I," responded a booming voice. A tall figure emerged from the burning clothes rack, wearing nothing but a blue towel around his waist and carrying a bottle of Old Spice body wash.

"Isaiah Mustafa?" America asked in disbelief.

"No, my brother, it is I, Jesus. I have merely taken on a form that your mind can comprehend."

America stared, open-mouthed.

"My brother," began Jesus, "Look at the mattress tag. Now back to me. Now back to the mattress tag. Now back to me. Sadly, the mattress tag is no longer attached to a mattress. But if you knew how to control your mattress tag-ripping tendencies, it could be."

"Uh...I...uh..."

"Back up. Where are you? You're in Ikea with the mattress tag your mattress could still be attached to."

"..."

"What's in your hand? Back at me. What I have is the body of Isaiah Mustafa. Look again. My body is now..."

His body began to bulge and twist, growing more and more muscular, the towel replaced by a pair of bright red booty shorts. He was now holding a bottle of Old Spice spray.

"TERRY CREW!" shouted Jesus. America jumped back, startled.

"Wow!" he cried, "You smell like pow-"

"Yeah, I do!" retorted Jesus.

America started a weak apology, but Jesus flexed one of his powerful pecs, effectively shutting him up.

"You have ripped the tag off a mattress!" he screamed, flexing various muscles. "Now you must suffer sixteen hours of apocalyptic POWEEEEEEER!"

"The apocalypse can't last for sixteen hours," America countered skeptically.

"WHAT?" Jesus bellowed. He extended his arm to an unbelievable length and punched America in the face, knocking him to the floor from the sheer power of the blow. "This one does, dummy! It's super-powerful ripped mattress tag-induced apocalypse! OOOOOOOHHHHH!"

America sat up, rubbing his bruised cheek gingerly, in time to watch Jesus flex his pecs and take off like a jet, breaking a hole through the roof of Ikea.

"Wait!" America shouted after him. "How do I stop it?"

"Pa pa pa pa pa pa power!"

And that was the last he saw of Jesus.

America, now thoroughly alarmed, began waving his arms wildly in an attempt to fend off the coming apocalypse, the mattress tag flapping in his hand. Everything was so backwards; he was supposed to be the hero, not the cause of the end of the world! The ground was trembling violently beneath him; furniture was crashing all around him, dishes shattering and boxes being knocked over. His mind was filled with the screams of fellow shoppers.

Hail was now falling freely from the hole in the ceiling, so large now that people were knocked unconscious when the hail landed on their heads. Lightning flashed, striking the power lines and causing all the lights in Ikea to burn out. The only light coming in was from the sun still shining faintly through heavy, dark clouds. Suddenly, America heard the booming voice of Terry Crew again. He peered up through the hole to see Jesus hovering above the department store, the bottle of Old Spice still clutched in his hand.

"Mattress tag ripping is so powerful it can cause the apocalypse for sixteen hours!" declared Jesus. "It's so powerful it can turn off the sun! But then it gets too cold, so it makes another sun!"

The previously dark Earth suddenly brightened with the powerful light of two suns, blinding everyone.

"Double sun POWEEEEEER!"

The intense heat and UV radiation from two suns proved to be too powerful for Earth and its inhabitants to handle, and people around America began to burn away. America shrieked in terror, feeling the heat and radiation begin to wrap around his own body, and just as the skin was melting from his bones and he was burning away -

He woke up.

America shot up from the mattress he had fallen asleep on, breathing heavily. He looked around him and was shocked to find the store and all its contents still intact, and people calmly shopping as if the world was not about to end. America clutched his chest, his heart beating erratically, and breathed a long sigh of relief. He heard England faintly calling him, and inched off the mattress, standing up shakily. He was holding the mattress tag, still attached to the mattress, loosely in his hand. He looked down at it for a long moment, then slowly withdrew his hand.

"On second thought, I'd better not."


End file.
